


Punch-Drunk

by spicyobsession



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Casual Sex, F/M, Friendship, Gen Fic, Humor, Intimacy, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:30:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicyobsession/pseuds/spicyobsession
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jacob heads for the Normandy's bar on the crew deck to unwind, only to discover other ways to do so as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Punch-Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, no explicit smut! Just lots and lots of fun, playful banter. 
> 
> Scene: ME2, post-Horizon, in the middle of everyone's Loyalty Missions.

Standing in front of the door, Jacob rolls his shoulders back and pops the crick in his neck. He hasn't been looking for trouble. After the _touching_ family reunion on Aiea (if one could even call it that) from two weeks ago, he isn't looking for any additional trouble whatsoever because hitting the Collector homeworld is enough to take in on its own. Additional doubts about Cerberus, the Illusive Man, and _Miranda_ are all too much for tonight.

The sigh of relief he heaves as the door cycles open is short-lived however because peace, quiet, and a fully stocked alcohol cabinet aren't what greet him in the Port Observation lounge. Instead, there is—

"Jacooob," Kasumi hiccups, her voice bright and ringing from her hunched seat at the bar. "Care to join me in a toast?"

His palm meets his face, dragging itself down with a differently tuned sigh. She tries to straighten in her stool, wobbles, and thankfully catches her hand on the counter. "Looks like you started without me already."

Her shoulders bob in an approximation of a shrug. "Well I couldn't wait all day, you know. This booze isn't going to drink itself."

"Airtight logic." Jacob walks toward her, noting how her hood can't completely hide the flush on her cheeks, and the steep angle at which she's holding her bottle. "Wanna tell me how much you've had?"

"Oh, I can't possibly remember _now_ ," she says airily, "you should've asked me when I just started!"

"I didn't know you were going to be here drinking," he points out, sitting down next to her.

Dark brown eyes peep up at him from under her hood. "Don't be silly, Jacob. You know I'm always here."

"Sure, when you're not cloaked and sneaking around the ship to listen in on people's conversations."

Kasumi has the grace to look cowed, although another hiccup ruins the effect. "I only do that when I'm bored."

"All the time then, huh?" As she lets out a gurgle of laughter, he deftly plucks the bottle out of her hands, shakes to see how much is left, and sets it aside. "What were you toasting?"

It's a testament to how drunk Kasumi is when her smile visibly falters as she ducks her head. "Ah. Just a drink for the fallen—for Keiji." Her hand vaguely gestures toward the other side of the room where the greybox sits on her desk. "Shepard was nice enough to let me keep it, but I haven't even opened it yet."

Jacob hesitates. He had heard about the thief's partnership with the other man and its abrupt, violent end. Watching Hock's fighter-craft blow into pieces as the _Normandy_ closed in for pickup left a very satisfied feeling in his gut. "Do you want to?"

Her mood instantly picks up again, suspiciously so. "That's a billion-credit question," Kasumi says, gently poking him in the chest.

Her gloved fingers look slim and dainty against the broad expanse of his frame. He lets her skirt his question this time. "Guess I won't find out. My pay day isn't for a while."

"Why wait at all? You could just lift the funds _early_."

Jacob laughs softly. "Once a thief, always a thief, huh?"

"No fun otherwise."

"Of all the reasons to choose a profession."

"If you don't love your job then why do it at all?"

"That—" He stops to consider. "—makes sense actually."

Kasumi props her head on her hand, her legs idly swinging several inches off the ground. It's an endearing little detail he can't help but notice. "Oh?" she prompts, "Having second thoughts about wearing the black-and-yellow uniform?"

That's part of why he's even wandered in here in the first place. Jacob instinctively masks his reaction to the uncomfortably accurate hit, but forgets that he's not the only observant person in the room. "M-hmm." She reaches for the bottle, stretching herself along the counter in front of him, and waves the bottle in front of his face. "How about that drink now?" Her voice stays gentle, but teasing.

The corners of his mouth twitch. She grins. He swipes her empty shotglass and holds it out. "Hurry, before I change my mind."

* * *

 

"Roses? Seriously?"

"I was young and inexperienced!"

"That's melodramatic, even for you."

"Not melodramatic," Kasumi says, gesturing to the air, " _Romantic._ "

"You mean cheesy," Jacob replies, letting his head loll back on the couch. The both of them had somehow migrated from the bar to here after an unknown quantity of drinks—enough to have her lying on the very same couch with her legs propped on his lap and him not minding in the least. He keeps his arms stretched across the couch top though while hers pantomime towards the ceiling.

"Creative," she suggests.

"Clichéd."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Sappy."

With a huff, Kasumi sits up from the other end. "Now you're just being mean."

He has another word at the ready, but takes one look at the tiny pout her mouth is in and pauses. "Cute."

She smiles. "Me or the rose?"

"Could be both," Jacob says, distracted by the way her eyes keep darting in and out of view from under the hood. No one's seen her entire face, and he's nowhere near drunk enough to pull back that slip of fabric. He has had enough, however, to appreciate what little her hood reveals.

"You're so nice," Kasumi announces and reaches over to pat his knee. Her hand lingers. "The nicest of the whole bunch."

"That's not hard to pull off, if you think about who we're traveling with."

"Did I mention most mentally well-adjusted too?"

He chuckles under his breath. "Yeah, that's me. Normal ol' Jacob."

"Hey," she says, leaning closer until he can see the wisps of dark hair peeking out from her hood. "There's nothing wrong with 'normal.' Honest."

For a moment, Jacob doesn't have a single adequate response. Her sudden earnestness catches him off guard (as does the hand still on his knee.) "You're the last person I figured who'd like anything 'normal,'" he manages to say.

Kasumi gives a playful shrug, her hand inching up his leg. "'Normal' isn't necessarily boring."

The heat seeps through two layers of suits, hers and his, to coil in his gut. He swallows and keeps his voice level. "Does that mean I'm interesting?"

"More than you realize," she confides, and her eyes practically gleam at him.

Another hiccup from the thief interrupts what he could have said or done next, and the two dissolve into unseemly giggles. "Sorry," Kasumi murmurs, hand clutching her rosy cheek, "That always happens when I drink. It's such an annoying habit."

By now, Jacob's arms have slid off the couch top to settle squarely and firmly over her feet. Her heel fits perfectly in his palm. He shakes his head. "Cute."

She smirks at the echo of their earlier exchange. "Me or my habit?"

"You," he says and kisses her.

The last woman Jacob had kissed was Miranda, from whom every slip of tongue or puff of breath felt methodical, perfectly calculated to draw his desire to the surface. Kasumi's reaction is genuine and sloppy, her arms enthusiastically thrown around his shoulders as she hauls herself further into his lap. Each kiss leaves his lips wet, chest pounding, hands fumbling. She softly murmurs Japanese when he tugs at her plump bottom lip, teeth grazing the purple tattoo in the middle. Her body tightly arches into him right as he presses back.

Flushed with drink, her face simmers under his fingertips when Jacob gradually pulls the hood back to reveal the entirety of her eyes, still dark and flashing as ever, and the length of inky black hair that sweeps her neck like silk. Kasumi's grin splits her face in half as her hands restlessly run over his arms, his chest, his back, giving each area a lengthy moment of frank appraisal that makes him wonder how long she's fantasized about this. He gets his answer when she nips a trail along his jaw to suck on a painfully sensitive earlobe, into which she breathes, "I had a feeling I'd get lucky tonight."

"You planned this whole thing out," Jacob says, unsure of which part he even means. He's too busy with the catches and buckles on her suit.

"Do you mind?"

The first clasp pops open. "No."

* * *

 

Jacob watches Kasumi blithely slide back into her suit as if nothing had transpired between them. She grabs a hold of the zipper on her back, ready to pull when he spots something. "Wait a second." He leans forward to brush her hair aside so it won't catch on the metal tab. "Better," he says, his fingers brushing her neck.

She gives a pleased hum and continues buckling the rest of her suit-pieces into place. "What would I ever do without you?"

"Find someone else to tease, probably."

"And have half as much fun," she replies, turning around to face him. "You look _very_ good naked. It's a shame I can't convince you to walk around the ship shirtless."

Jacob laughs, embarrassed, but relieved to be fully dressed while having this conversation. "I'd be a distraction."

"A _huge_ distraction," Kasumi says with a smirk.

He can only shake his head at her, sparing another glance at the door. Earlier, she'd locked it before either one got carried away with the evening's activities, which was an excellent idea in hindsight, as they had spent enough time to completely work the alcohol out of their systems by the end. Although now thoroughly sober, a surge of pride wells up in Jacob to see Kasumi's cheeks still tinged pink from their exertions. Her slightly mussed hair intensifies the feeling.

"Might want to fix your hair," he says, gesturing to the flyaway strands.

She finds her part and tucks the locks behind her ears, smoothing everything down. It's a dainty process he watches in fascination, and a small, wistful sigh escapes his throat when her hands start to reach for her hood.

Naturally, Kasumi catches that and stops what she's doing. Linking her arms around his neck instead, she stands on her toes to sprinkle butterfly kisses across his face. "Don't worry," she murmurs, "This won't be the last time."

Jacob holds her up, longing to drag the both of them back down on the couch again and fighting the unease building in his mind at the same time. "I'm not so sure."

"Why?" Her hands—always restless, always moving—settle on his hips. "Don't you trust me?"

His own fingers find the sensitive spot between her shoulder blades, drawing an indecent purr out of her. "That a trick question?"

"Depends on the answer." Kasumi captures his mouth in one more kiss, more shallow than deep, her tongue lightly skimming his upper lip as he tightly crushes himself against her. Touching the thief confuses him, quick and flighty as she is, and kissing her even more so. Jacob's the one who comes away breathless when they break apart. She licks her lips, looking pensive. "Just think about it."

To her surprise, he returns her hood to its proper place, straightening any wrinkles or creases. She stands at his chin at the tallest, and the urge to kiss the top of her head is overwhelming. Jacob takes several steps back, putting distance between them. "Maybe."


End file.
